


A Turtly Random Happenstance That Resulted in Love

by TinyNerdsbian



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), swan queen - Fandom
Genre: AU, F/F, Turtle AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 04:19:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5652211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyNerdsbian/pseuds/TinyNerdsbian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina Mills volunteers in an oil spill clean up for PR, Emma Swan does it for fun. Emma is charming, Regina is annoyed. A turtle brings them together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mildly Attainable Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> In this time of fandom despair, what Swen needs most is a turtle au.  
> This started out as just a silly idea. When it was met with enthusiasm, it was planned as a quick little ficlet. A little over 11,000 words later it's done. Hope you love it as much as I do!

 

            It was one of the biggest oil spills in recent history; not quite reaching the devastation of the BP spill but successfully cutting off a bale of sea turtles just off the coast. Massive groups of volunteers were brought in to help with clean up in hopes of allowing the turtles to maintain their nesting schedule.

            Regina Mills trudged through the oily surf, making her way to the clean up tents, silently cursing the useless uber driver the whole way.

            “Three stars was a goddamn gift,” she muttered, clenching her fists and trying her hardest to not stomp. “You had GPS, for Christ’s sake, stop trying to flaunt your masculinity and use it. Look more like a moron now that anything,” she was just wrapping up her tirade when the blue tarp tents were finally coming into view. She readjusted the shoulder strap of her designer duffle; her ranting almost beginning anew, her arrival at the sign in tent being the only thing to bring it to an abrupt halt.

            “Regina Mills, checking in,” she announced, flashing her best campaign smile, signing her name when prompted and accepting her laminated name tag.

            “Just pick a tent,” the young volunteer spoke in her general direction. “Someone will give you the run down and supplies.”

            Regina fought to keep the knee-jerk annoyance at the clear disorganization off her face as she made her way to the farthest tent, hoping that some quiet, alone time would sooth her frustrations. Of course, concurrent with the rest of her day and against her best efforts the achieve solitude, she was met with a young blonde, somehow covered in oil, despite the single turtle in front of her.

            “Hey!” the blonde chirped, her sunny disposition rivaling the actual sun. She continued when she realized she wouldn’t be receiving a response. “I’m Emma Swan. You’ll find the soap, washcloth, rinse bucket and gloves on the table behind me. Meet guys down on the beach for a turtle. We clean them on the ground to lower the chances of them falling and cracking their shell.”

            “You seem rather knowledgeable on the turtle cleaning front,” Regina offered, attempting to be pleasant.

            “This ain’t my first oil spill, ma’am,” Emma smirked with an exaggerated salute; successfully smudging more oil on her face.

            Regina took a moment to look Emma over. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun; she wore a red plaid shirt over a black tank; though the rolled up sleeves did nothing to protect the garment. Her denim Bermuda shorts were also decorated with smatterings of oil and, to Regina’s surprise, she was barefoot. Her eyes moved back to Emma’s face and found the blonde grinning at her, the oil spotting her face adding a charm that Regina refused to describe as adorable.

            “Anyway,” Emma spoke up, breaking Regina from her thoughts. “Go grab yourself a turtle and make sure you make the guy help you carry it back. It gets slippery out there and you could both get hurt.”

            Regina stood awkwardly for a minute, suddenly unsure of how to continue despite clear instruction. She turned slowly in a half circle, fortunately finding an empty corner, set her bag down and desperately hoped it was far enough away from the mess to keep it as pristine as possible, then moved to gather her cleaning supplies. When she turned back to Emma, she found her attention was back on the turtle in front of her as she carefully and painstakingly spread a light later of soap on the turtle’s shell and working it into a gentle lather. Regina delicately stepped around Emma, not wanting to disturb her seemingly intricate system. Once Regina was satisfied with the layout of her cleaning supplies, ever the perfectionist, she headed out of the tent, pausing just outside to scan the shore until she spotted a group of semi-bulky men handing off grimy turtles to equally grimy people.

            Straightening her spine, Regina adopted a regal air with a stern expression and made her way down to the beach. The man she encountered was named Dale and while she simply inquired about **assistance** , he insisted on carrying the turtle back himself. Regina was about **95%** sure he was flexing the entire walk.

            Regina thanked roughly seven different deities when Dale finally left; her eyes nearly rolling out of her head when he winked at her before leaving the tent.

            “Good ole Dale,” Emma laughed, gently wiping the shell of the turtle at her feet, obviously pleased with how easily the oil came off.

            “He’s the personification of…what are the kids calling it?” She turned an inquisitive gaze laced with snark toward Emma.

            “The kids?” Emma chuckled at Regina, whose only response was a raised eyebrow. “I believe the term to are alluding to Regina,” and no, the brunette did **not** get goosebumps at how deliciously her name rolled off of Emma’s tongue. “Is ‘fuckboy’.”

            “Indeed,” Regina crooned, not bothering to stop her chuckle. She frowned slightly when Emma quickly returned to her turtle, leaving Regina standing awkwardly next to her’s, so lost in uncertainty that she didn’t notice that Emma’s eyes were back on her.

            “You know,” Emma said, winking at Regina’s slight jump and immediate blush. “For starters, you could sit?”

            Regina tried her best scowl on Emma, but soon dropped it when it became clear that the blonde’s grin would not waver, she huffed a dramatic sigh and lowered herself to the ground with a grace that would make the queen jealous.

            Emma took a break from her cleaning a she took in Regina’s actions with thinly veiled amusement. The woman in front of her carefully looked over the reptile, either trying to decide where to start, trying to determine if there was a way to clean the oil off without physically touching the turtle, or simply attempting to glare the oil clean off. While Emma was technically finished with her turtle and could bring him to the release group, she had a feeling that Regina would need guidance very soon.

            Sure enough, just a moment after Emma turned away, an alarmed yelp sounded from the woman across from her. When Emma’s eyes shot up, she saw Regina’s gloved hand tightly clutching a soapy, dripping washcloth to her chest; her brown eyes blown wide.

            “Let me guess,” Emma ventured with a soft grin, obviously amused but also hoping to avoid angering her. “You went straight for her face?”

            “It looked like there were oil in her eyes,” Regina mumbled, her face reddening when she remembered her ridiculous squeal. “How do you know it’s a girl anyway?”

            “Look at her tail,” Emma explained, continuing when Regina dropped her suspicious glare and finally looked down at the turtle. “See how her tail is short and thick?” She saw Regina’s almost imperceptible nod, then tried, and failed, to get the brunette to come sit next to her. “Just come over here. I won’t bite,” Regina’s almost positive she heard a muttered “unless you ask” but let it go in the face of education. With an obnoxiously exaggerated sigh, she moved to Emma’s side and waited for the blonde to continue. “Now, see how his is longer and a tad skinnier?” This time, Regina’s nod was more pronounced and her soft smile betrayed her attempts at looking only mildly interested. “There are other indicators, but I don’t think we need to flip these guys over,” and no, Emma’s wink did **not** make Regina want to hop the express train to Swooncity.

            What was intended to be a solid and possibly sassy “indeed” paired with a flirtatious wink, unfortunately came out half choked, half coughed with more of a slow blink. While Emma noticed every single aspect of this attempted response, she didn’t comment on it, assuming Regina had a bit of a prideful side.

            “It’s usually best to approach the shell first,” Emma delicately suggested, allowing Regina to collect herself and return to her turtle. “You just have to let her get used to you and trust you,” she couldn’t help but sigh when she was met with a truly skeptical face. “She may just be a turtle, Regina, but she is still a living creature and you have to earn her trust.”

            Regina felt a fluttering hint of fondness at how steadfast Emma was in her belief and not a little shame at her immediate dismissal of the turtle. While part of her fully understood that these turtles did, in fact, have feelings, another, more dominant, part could not bring herself to actively think on gaining an animal’s trust when she was just there to clean it.

            “You know,” Regina started, preferring to adopt the slight arrogant and uncaring tone that had been hammered into her since puberty. “I don’t recall actually giving you my name. One could say it would be impolite to presume that you would be on a first name basis with someone you just met.”

            “One could also argue,” Emma countered with a devious glint in her eye. “that it would be impolite to not offer your name after formal introductions.”

            “Yes, well,” Regina’s lips pursed in obvious aggravation, she knew she had been bested but she sure as hell wasn’t going to give Emma the satisfaction by acknowledging this or arguing further. She completely ignored the smug look already gracing Emma’s features; she was here to do a job and god damn it, she was going to do it. Emma Swan’s unbridled giggling be damned.

 

 

            Regina Mills learned three things that first day. One, oil was hard to clean off of anything, let alone the rough, ridge filled shell of a turtle. She was positive she would be able to compete in body building competitions when she was done. Two, turtles were shockingly fast when they wanted to be. Move too fast or touch something they don’t want you to and they did their best impression of Speedy Gonzales. Lastly, Emma Swan was a talker. Maybe two minutes after Regina’s painfully clear decision to ignore her fellow volunteer, Emma started talking about, probably, everything that popped into her head; from why the Red Sox were better in every capacity than the Yankees to why Dunkin Donuts should change their slogan because “how can you say ‘America runs on Dunkin’ when they’re predominantly on the east coast?!” If Regina wasn’t so annoyed, she would have been impressed. She was sure Emma had the lung capacity of a harbor porpoise either her seemingly lack of need for oxygen.

           

            The volunteer organization decided to halt cleanup at sunset; so around 8pm, Regina carried her last turtle for the day to the release tent, smiling proudly as they praised her hard work once more. She pulled the email printout sent to her when she signed up, stating her tent number, slightly remiss at the idea of basically camping, but making her way toward the cluster of sleeping tents, scanning for #108 and desperately praying to every higher power that came to mind that, somehow, she would be bunking solo.

            “Of course,” Regina grumbled when she stepped through the zippered flap of the tent it took her ten minutes to find and discovered a, thankfully clean, Emma Swan sitting cross legged on a sleeping bag.

            “Don’t act like all of your wildest dreams didn’t just come true,” Emma grinned, blatantly ignoring Regina’s annoyed glare.

            “That’s quite the reach, Miss Swan,” Regina groused, attempting to deepen her glare and feeling disappointed when it seemed to only make Emma’s smile spread. She begrudgingly dropped her bag on the spare sleeping bag, silently glad that she at least only had to share the tent with one other person.

            “Perhaps not **wildest** dreams, but at least a few mildly attainable ones,” at this point in their day, Emma had become virtually immune to Regina’s wide array of scathing looks and this utterly suspicious and disbelieving one was no different. “Hey, I’m currently the reason you don’t have to take the time and energy to deal with someone new.”

            Once again, Regina didn’t have a response to Emma’s shockingly sound logic. Instead, she took the time to look her over; what she noticed first was her hair. Having had it up earlier, Regina didn’t realize just how long it was or how it seemed to fall in flawless, natural curls. What caught her attention next was not just the impossibly snug tank top, but the very clear fact that the blonde was not wearing much else, save for the bright red boy shorts, which put her exquisitely long legs on display.

            “Only bring one pair of pants, did you?” Regina couldn’t help the internal high five she rewarded herself at her successful flirtatious tone with just a bite of sass.

            “Eh,” Emma responded with an infuriatingly casual shrug. “I prefer to be cool and comfortable when I sleep. Especially in this disgustingly smothering humidity.”

            “And if you were to be bunking with a new stranger?” Regina grinned smugly, sure that she had the blonde this time.

            “I would say ‘Hi, I’m Emma Swan’ and patiently await their introduction.”

            Damn.

 

 

            Regina was finally able to get some peace and quiet when she stepped under the surprisingly warm spray of the portable shower. While she let the water beat the knots out of her shoulders and back, Regina thought on the odd, for her anyway, tolerance of Emma Swan. Normally, when she encountered someone with the intensive need to talk nonstop, she would find a way to make them leave, which she assumed wouldn’t work on Emma in the slightest; or she would find a way to remove herself from the situation. That was what kept Regina in the shower ten minutes longer than she normally would be. Why didn’t she just find another tent? She was sure Emma wouldn’t have noticed, she probably would have kept on rambling to the turtle. So why didn’t she? She ends up telling herself that it’s because she didn’t want to chance another, more annoying volunteer and not because Emma was hopelessly charming with her endless rants about all things Boston.

            She partially regrets her choice in lacey, mid-thigh length sleepwear when she steps back through the tent flap and is instantly greeted with a low whistle.

            “Too hot! Hot damn!” Emma grinned at Regina’s blush and slightly pleased smile she was trying oh so hard to hide, as she began fanning herself with the book she was reading.

            “You start singing ‘Uptown Funk’, Miss Swan,” Regina interrupted with little bite and a weak glare. “and you’re sleeping outside.”

            “You keep up this ‘Miss Swan’ business and I might start to like it,” Emma winked and chuckled at the half-hearted eye roll she received in response.

            “Goodnight, Em-ma,” Regina crooned, her voice becoming husky and low.

            “’Night,” Emma “Queen of Winks” Swan, offered one more before slipping on a pair of unfairly precious glasses and opening the book on her lap.


	2. Photogracide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ladies get a surprise visitor.

The following day started out marginally better with an illustrious breakfast of fresh fruit and muffins. Regina grimaced at the exceedingly watered down coffee but remained grateful that there was any coffee at all.

            Emma was her usual chatty self, speaking on the moral implications of “Deflategate” for the NFL and their outrageous decision to suspend Brandy for four games.

            “I mean, I realize that he’s a world class douchecanoe,” Emma explained hastily. “And cheating at the **Super Bowl** of all places is shitty at best. But **FOUR** games?!” Emma was in full rant and Regina didn’t bother hiding her obviously amused smile. “It’s like they were looking to find a reason to revoke the suspension! They just did it for show!”

            “If you say so, dear,” Regina chuckled.

            “I do say so,” Emma shot back, then scowled at no one in particular. “Guys who’ve beaten their wives or girlfriends have gotten less time.”

            “Now that is truly reprehensible,” Regina growled, adding a bit more elbow grease to a particularly pesky oil patch.

            “You know,” Emma’s tone suddenly taking a sharp turn. “It’s much gentler on them if you let the oil soak and then just wipe it off.”

            “It’s quicker and more efficient to scrub,” Regina countered, her eyes and voice growing darker.

            “I’m just saying, you wouldn’t like it if someone was scrubbing the shit out of your back,” Emma’s tone had taken on a hint of sarcasm that was starting to grate on each and every one of Regina’s nerves. “You’re practically giving him a Silkwood shower.”

            “I’m sure **she** ,” Regina couldn’t refrain to show off her newly acquired knowledge, despite it coming from Emma. “Would prefer to not sit in oil longer than she needs to.”

            “Seriously, Regina,” the brunette smiled condescendingly at Emma’s growing frustration, which only served to make the blonde’s face redden and childishly throw the washcloth she’d been using to the floor. “I’ve obviously done this more than you and **I am telling you** , letting it soak and then wiping it off is better for them, physically and mentally.”

            “Fine,” Regina snapped. “If you want to her here all day cleaning **one turtle** , be my guest,” she tossed aside her washcloth with a bit more finesse than Emma had managed, carefully grabbed her freshly cleaned turtle and headed out of the tent; both women rolling their eyes simultaneously, despite looking away from each other.

 

 

            After dropping the turtle off at the release site, Regina opted to take a quick walk along the beach, hoping to stretch her legs and clear her head. Twenty minutes later and thoughts still aggravatingly ripe with Emma Swan, her sarcastic bites, and her adorable freckles, Regina found herself down by the shore looking to help with turtle handouts. She managed to make it ten minutes before she realized that the bikini clad volunteers preferred the assistance of the muscled turtle bearers. With a heavy sigh, she picked a turtle for herself and headed back to the tent she’d recently stormed out of. She would never admit this out loud or, God forbid, to Emma herself, but she really was glad that they were forced together in every sense. Not only did it save her from having to deal with new people and, as much as it shocked Regina, the blonde had definitely grown on her in a surprisingly short amount of time; having kept her up later than her usual bedtime with her amusing running commentary on the book she was reading.

            Regina breathed a noticeable sigh of relief when she entered the tent to a calm and cheery looking Emma. Her tense shoulders relaxed fully when she received a soft smile in greeting.

            “Welcome back,” Emma’s smile widened as Regina retook her seat opposite her. “I think little Thelma here was getting tired of my storytelling,” Regina couldn’t stop the laugh that burst out of her as her previously held belief that Emma would simply commune with a turtle in her absence being verified. Not to mention the fact that Emma named the turtle.

            “Thelma?” Regina asked while spreading fine layer of soap on the turtle’s shell and not missing the pleased smile gracing Emma’s lips.

            “Hell yeah, Thelma!” Emma explained with a little bounce. “She looks like a total bad ass bitch. She deserves a kick ass name.”

            “Whatever you say, dear,” Regina responded with a playful eye roll before looking up at Emma. “Isn’t it a bad idea to name them if we’re just going to let them go?”

            “ **No** ,” Emma answered in mock offense. “That’s if we’re going to eat them and we **certainly** won’t be eating Thelma.”

            “Of course not,” Regina responded with the amount of seriousness the situation garnered; which turned out to be a bit more than she anticipated.

            Though she certainly did not let the soapy water sit as long as Emma seemed to, Regina had to admit, very quietly to herself, that this method was much easier on her body. However, judging by the look on the blonde’s face, Regina could tell that she knew but thankfully chose not to comment on it.

            A good hour into their newly rekindled camaraderie, a random camera clad man barged into their tent and wordlessly started snapping photos of Regina.

            “Can I help you?” Regina’s voice became instant steel and her eyes hardened. The photographer at least had enough sense to look nervous.

            “M-Mr. Glass said photos were necessary for the article,” Emma would’ve felt bad for the stuttering man if she wasn’t trying to hard not to laugh.

            “I don’t care what Mr. Glass said. Leave,” Regina sneered, slightly impressing Emma with her ability to make the man look so small while seated and flecked with oil; though Emma guessed she only felt this way because she wasn’t on the receiving end of that look. Regina, on the other hand looked like she was about to crawl out of her skin out of sheer annoyance. When he showed no sign of moving, Regina’s eyes rolled so hard, Emma was sure the brunette could give a detailed description of her retinas. “Get Sydney on the phone. **Now.** ”

            At this point, Emma couldn’t hold back the snort of laughter when the guy tried to continue taking photos while trying to pull his phone from his pocket. While his eyes were looking everywhere but Regina and somehow still fumbling, the brunette tossed a quick wink at Emma, causing her to dissolve into giggles at just how well Regina was playing this guy.

            Finally, he managed to get a clue, slung his camera over his shoulder and successfully retrieved his phone from his awkwardly tight pants. After taking an eternity to dial Sydney Glass, he shakily held out his phone to Regina. She hit him with a look that screamed “I don’t give a damn about your phone” but held up her oil slicked glove covered hands. Fumbling Photog’s eyes were darting again, this time between Regina’s hands, his phone, his free hand and his far too expensive pants for an oil soaked beach. Now, even Emma was rolling her eyes and she was just a bystander. She tapped Regina’s wrist to regain her attention and swiftly pulled both gloves free, allowing the brunette to snatch the phone from trembling hands.

            “Sydney, what the hell?!” Regina barked into the phone, either choosing to ignore the shocked, sputtering voice on the other end or being so used to it; she was unfazed. “In what universe, or millennia would you think it acceptable to send a photographer to take photos **of me** without my consent?!”

            “Dude, you should probably go,” Emma whispered to the antsy photographer.

            “I, uh, I,” he muttered, his eyes never leaving Regina.

            “Seriously, go,” the blonde growing weary of this knee quaking guy.

            “But my phone,” his response coming as a choked whimper.

            “I’m sure she’ll come find you,” this seemed to frighten him more, but still proved to be enough motivation for him to leave. When she turned back to Regina, she began to wonder if the brunette was ever going to allow this Sydney to get a word in.

            “Well, Sydney,” Regina’s tone was laced with ice and an agitated sneer was pasted on her face. “Perhaps, I should get someone who can write a proper article without the crutch of photography.”

            Emma could practically see and absolutely hear the utter desperation oozing out of the phone’s speaker and couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Sure, she didn’t know this Sydney and she barely knew Regina, but sending a photographer without consulting the potential subject was pure sleaze and immediately landed the guy on Emma’s shit list.

            “He can use the pictures he already snuck in. And Sydney?” Her voice was sickly sweet before dropping to a low growl. “You **ever** pull a stunt like this again, you will be so fired, your ass will be smoking,” Regina slammed her thumb on the end call button and looked like she was struggling not to throw the phone or crush it with her bare hands. After several deep breaths, Regina calmly and silently exited their shared tent.

           

 

            What felt like a good hour later, enough to leave Emma wondering if she should go find Regina and possibly prevent her from committing photogracide, the woman in question slipped back into the tent. While appearing more calm, Emma could still see how tense and tight her shoulders were and she was decidedly sans turtle.

            “I apologize for you having to see that,” Regina said softly, regally lowering herself to the floor. “I am not one for surprises. I tend to act out when caught off guard.”       

            “Makes total sense,” Emma responded with a light smile. “Dude did just barge in here and start taking pictures,” she shrugged casually and was glad to see Regina’s tense posture relax some. “Speaking of…is that guy still…”

            “Alive?” Regina finished Emma’s sentence with a smirk. “Yes, Miss Swan, the photographer is still alive. I even let him take a few extra photos.”

            “I’m just sayin’,” Emma reasoned with a nonchalant shake of her head. “You looked about ready to crush that phone to dust. I couldn’t help but be worried for that gentleman’s health.”

            “While, yes, I was awfully perturbed with the sudden intrusion,” Regina explained calmly, not missing the amused glint in Emma’s eyes. “I also realized that it was not that young man’s fault. He was simply doing his job. Now Sydney on the other hand…” Regina trailed off with a mischievous smirk and devilish wink, slightly delighting in the small laugh from Emma.

            “So are you some hot shot CEO out here doing some PR for your fancy firm?” Emma attempted to come off as super casual but was almost positive that her curiosity at the one sided conversation she overheard was obvious.

            Regina took a minute to study Emma’s face, looking for signs of reasoning other than simple curiosity. She also took this time to try and comprehend why she felt like she could and would share everything about herself with this woman.

            “I’m a mayor,” she eventually replied, quickly realizing she had been quiet long enough that her response had startled Emma, who had begun wiping her turtle’s face. “Small, quiet town, but very old. Despite winning by a landslide, I am still seen as too young and aloof.”

            “And leaving the city? State? Didn’t perpetuate the ‘aloof’ persona?” By now, Emma was extremely inquisitive and didn’t try to hide it, seeing as Regina didn’t appear too put out by her questioning.

            “It’s a blatant PR stunt, I’ll admit, but they seem to be pleased with a mayor that cares enough about the Earth and its creatures to literally get her hands dirty,” Emma could see and hear the conflicting sense of pride and uncertainty in Regina. “And to answer your thinly veiled question,” she couldn’t help but grin at Emma’s blush. “Storybrooke is in Maine, about forty minutes outside of Bangor.”

            “Storybrooke?!” Emma snickered. “Who named it, Snow White?”

            “I told you it was old,” Regina responded with an amused shrug. “Regardless, they seem to be eating this up,” she paused, her eyes shifting away from Emma’s as her voice quieted. “And I suppose photographic evidence doesn’t hurt.”

            Emma burst out laughing at Regina’s quick, mumbled statement and the slight distaste in which it was delivered. “No, it certainly doesn’t.”

            “I’m going to go get another turtle,” Regina muttered after a few moments of silence and watching Emma attended to her own.

 

 

            It seemed in the time it took Regina to clean two turtles in her newly adopted fashion, Emma was still working on the same one. She didn’t want to say anything, she knew Emma liked to take her time, but this seemed much slower than her usual pace. Still, she shrugged it off, not wanting to question the blonde’s devotion. That is, until she stepped into their shared sleep tent to find Emma hunched over the very same turtle she spent all afternoon on, sitting spic and span on Emma’s sleeping bag.

            “Why is there a turtle in my tent,” Regina stood tall and steady at the flap, uncaring that she shocked Emma into jumping, a small yelp escaping her lips.

            “I, uhm, you see, well…”

            “I’m waiting, Miss Swan,” Regina bit out, not necessarily upset by the reptile currently residing in her sleeping area, but the surprise of said reptile irked her.

            “He’s hurt.”

            “And?” Regina snapped, then attempted to calm herself when she noticed Emma flinch. “Isn’t there a vet or something that is here to take care of that?”

            “They take care of minor shell cracks, or quick fixes,” Emma explained desperately, obviously worried that Regina would make her hand him over. “He has a huge crack on his shell and his front right flipper is heavily bruised. They don’t have the resources for extended care. They’ll patch up the shell and hope for the best.”

            “Emma, **we** don’t have the resources for this,” Regina reasoned. She didn’t know what went into turtle first aid and after care, but she was sure it required more than the two of them in their simplistic tent.

            “Please, Regina,” Emma Swan was in full puppy dog mode; eyes somehow twice their normal size and she looked two minutes away from whimpering. “He just needs rest and I have some duct tape for his shell. There’s no way he’ll make it if they release him with this flipper. **Please, Regina**.”

            “I don’t know anything about caring for turtles, let alone injured ones,” Regina was still unsure but was slowly coming around, mostly in part due to Emma’s somehow sparkling eyes.

            “Oh, you wouldn’t have to do anything!” Emma immediately cut in. “Just don’t make me turn him in.”

            “I don’t know, Emma,” Regina bit her lip, studying Emma closely, then moving to sit next to the turtle. She had to admit he looked rough. He had a sizable crack toward the top of his shell and his flipper was noticeably discolored.

            “Please, Regina,” Emma was all out begging. “I swear it’s all me. Just don’t turn us in.”

            “Fine,” Regina sighed. “But the second he is better, we’re releasing him,” Regina grinned at the instant brightness that enveloped Emma’s face, which helped push down the rising panic at the “we” that slipped out.

            “Yes! Of course, thank you!” Emma jumped forward, wrapping both arms securely around Regina’s neck, seemingly not noticing the brunette’s initial stiffness, only squeezing her tighter when she relaxed into the hug.


	3. Turtle Mafia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ladies settle down with their new son.

And so it continued for the next week, Emma would sneak back to their tent every other turtle to check on their clandestine roommate; until about two and a half days into it, when she, once again, set her puppy dog eyes on Regina and wordlessly got her to check in on him too.

            On the one weekiversary of smuggling the injured reptile into their sleeping quarters, Emma insisted that they name him.

            “Miss Swan,” Regina leveled the blonde with a supremely skeptical gaze. “You know my stance on naming things we plan to let go.”

            “ ** _Things?!_** ” Emma nearly shrieked, covering the turtle’s head as if she were covering his ears. “He is not a **thing** , Regina Mills.”

            “I apologize,” Regina conceded with only a slight roll of her eyes. “Regardless, you know my thoughts.”

            “Yes, we will be letting him go,” Emma agreed. “But we can’t just keep calling him ‘turtle’. And maybe he’ll get better faster…”

            Regina had to agree; she kind of hated that she agreed. She felt off naming an animal that they were going to release in two weeks’ time. However, the brunette didn’t stop her rolling eyes but desperately tried to hide her smile at Emma’s bright grin when she realized Regina was folding.

            “So, I’m thinking ‘Sheldon’,” Emma immediately chimed in.

            “If you insist of ‘Sheldon’ because he has a shell, I’m leaving,” Regina deadpanned, only partially invested.

            “Oh god, that’s genius,” Emma snickered, clutching her middle as she started to dissolve into a full belly laugh as she thought more on Regina’s complaint. “I wish I thought of that. I was thinking more alone the lines of Sheldon Cooper? Bazinga! Ring a bell?”

            “I am a mayor,” Regina responded, regally straightening her spine. “I am much more refined and simply do not have the time for, what I assume is a television program.”

            “Yes, Your Majesty,” Emma dramatically bowed from her seated position. “It is a ‘television program’. A character named Sheldon Cooper says ‘bazinga’ on occasion and frequently wears a Flash t-shirt that has a lightning bolt on them.”

            “And?” While Regina was growing weary of Emma’s endless storytelling, she did find this mildly amusing.

            “Come look at his shell!” Emma excitedly grabbed Regina’s hand and uncaringly yanked her over to her sleeping bag, pointing at the edge of turtle’s shell. “This crack on his shell is in the shape of a lightning bolt!”

            “I am more partial to ‘Alfred’,” Regina offered with a shrug. “It sounds more dignified.”

            “Uh-uh, no way,” Emma replied stubbornly with a hard shake of her head. “We are not giving our son a supremely nerdy name.”

            “How is ‘Alfred’ nerdier than ‘Sheldon’?” Regina didn’t bother to stop to think about the fact that she was arguing over the name of a turtle with a woman she had only met a week or so prior. “The only logical nick name is ‘Shelly’, for God’s sake.”

            “Uhm, excuse you,” Emma interrupted with a raised finger. “They could call him ‘Don’. Like the don of the turtle mafia.”    

            “We are not raising a turtle mob boss.”

            “Regardless, it is 2016, Regina,” Emma countered. “We are not giving our son some old man name.”

            “This turtle is not our son, Miss Swan,” Regina said flippantly.

            “Don’t listen to Mommy, Sheldon,” Emma told the turtle quietly after an exaggerated gasp, a hard glare aimed at Regina and her hands reestablishing their spot over his little turtle ear-holes. “She’s had a long day.”

            “Clearly, you’ve already decided that his name is Sheldon,” Regina muttered with a huff, glancing down at her nails, oddly hurt at Emma’s leaving her out of the decision.

            “Maybe I wouldn’t if you didn’t so carelessly denounce our son,” Emma responded with a shrug.

            “I suppose ‘Sheldon’ **is** a pretty cute name,” Regina was suddenly overcome with the urge to see Emma smile and immensely pleased when it worked.

            That same smile was near blinding as Emma reached around Regina, grabbing her water bottle and causing the brunette to steadfastly ignore the rapid increase in heart rate. Emma carefully filled the cap and drizzled half down the turtle’s shell and the other half down the back of his head. “I baptize you Sheldon Alfred Swan-Mills.”

            There were absolutely **no** tears lining Regina’s eyes.

           

 

            The following week and a half followed fairly similarly, the two women alternating checking on Sheldon when they could, switching off staying with him while the other showered or grabbed dinner and staying up far too late talking about anything and everything.

            On this day, Emma headed out early, acknowledging that, at this point, if she got another turtle, she’d be there until almost nine, but she also wanted to go check on Sheldon. Regina still had another twenty to thirty minutes to go, so she took the opportunistic silence to think about the oddly expanding fondness she felt for Emma. She didn’t really like most people, she merely tolerated them for the sake of business. With Emma, she found herself wanting to spend more and more time with her and she somehow adopted a turtle child with her, for Christ’s sake. Perhaps it was because Emma did not tiptoe or dance around her. Emma told her what was happening and when; no ifs, ands, or buts. Regina found, with a slight shock, that she did not at all mind. She also found that she did not want to hide the small smile that seemed to perpetually play on her lips when she thought about the blonde. This very smile stayed firmly planted on her face as she returned the turtle to the volunteer crew, dropping only when she stepped into the tent and found Emma sobbing in the middle of her sleeping bag.

            “Sheldon won’t eat,” Regina’s heart broke as the sad green eyes refilled. “I tried to get him to eat this tomato when I got back and saw that everything we left him today was still there, but he won’t even lift his head.”

            Regina awkwardly accepted the crying woman into her arms, gently rubbing her back while she pulled out her phone and started researching what a turtle of his breed and nature might eat. She, regrettably, helped Emma sit when she finally gathered all the information she needed.

            “Emma,” she began is a soft tone she almost never used. “He’s not eating, because this isn’t his usual diet. His body is kind of in shock.”

            “It’s my fault?” Emma’s chin began quivering again as fresh tears lined her eyes. “I made him sick?”

            “No, Emma,” Regina tried to give the blonde a reassuring smile, hoping to calm her fears. “For most domesticated turtles and tortoises, lettuce, tomatoes, and the like are just fine. And if we --,” Regina took a quick breath, almost missing the “we” she just let slip. “If you were to take him home, you would probably be able to transition him into more of a standard diet. Him going from his usual diet to salad ingredients just shocked his system.”

            “I didn’t mean to,” Emma responded in a shuddering breath, her eyes reflecting a deep seated sense of immediate regret and guilt that could only stem from childhood.

            “I know,” Regina chanced a bigger smile and a hand on Emma’s knee. “And I’m sure Sheldon knows that too,” Regina’s shaky smile solidified when she earned a light chuckle from Emma, who’s small smile remained. “Now, I’m going to head down to the beach to try and find some decent seaweed and maybe algae.”

            “No!” Emma’s sudden outburst startled Regina, causing her smile to fall in instant rejection. “No, I’m sorry, I just mean, it’s my fault he’s like this,” Emma’s hand shot out and grabbed Regina’s, hoping to assuage the brunette’s upset. “Plus, it’s dark, you shouldn’t go down to the beach when it’s this dark.”   

            “I’m just as capable as you, Emma,” Regina muttered, still feeling the slightest hint of rejection, though slowly feeling it ebbing away. She didn’t want her quick defenses to drive a wedge into whatever was building between her and the blonde. “Stay with our son,” she quirked with a small smile and wink, before getting her feet and making her way out of the tent. Pausing at the door when a thought crossed her mind, Regina turned on her foot and grabbed her phone where it sat on the sleeping bag, motioning for Emma to hand over hers. “In the face of safety and logic, I’m putting my number in your phone and bringing mine. It’s still fairly light outside and my phone has a flashlight, so I’ll still be able to see,” she also kept the thought to herself that maybe they would keep in touch once their volunteering was over. Once she hit the save button and handed Emma’s phone back to her and grabbing a stray Ziploc bag, Regina left the tent she just recently entered and made her back down to the beach.

 

            It had been thirty minutes and three unanswered texts and Emma was getting worried. In the grand scheme of things, thirty minutes wasn’t that much time; however, in and unfamiliar city, at the quickly darkening beach, thirty minutes was plenty of time to get hurt…or worse. She had just unlocked her phone to send the missing brunette another text when the woman in question trudged through the zipped flap, arms and legs soaked, pockets heavy with what Emma assumed were rocks and the Ziploc she left with, stuffed with what appeared to be seaweed. Regina wordlessly handed the items to Emma before turning on her heel, grabbing her toiletries and nightgown from her bed and, once again, leaving their tent.

            Again, Regina found herself spending an extensive amount of time in the shower thinking about her feelings for Emma Swan. Despite the turtle actually being kind of cute, Regina just spent the past twenty minutes in the oily surf trying to locate seaweed and algae covered rocks that weren’t completely covered in black gunk, and she didn’t do it solely for the turtle. Her driving motive was to stop Emma’s crying and her worrying. This still completely baffled Regina. She was beginning to accept a growing fondness for Emma, and even though she had a few scattered friends, Regina wasn’t sure that she’d be willing to endure what she had just to make them smile. Without any answers, Regina begrudgingly turned off the shower, realizing that she had been done cleaning and was just standing there for a past ten minutes. After quickly toweling off and dressing, Regina brushed her teeth and left the small portable bathroom, oddly taking an additional couple minutes to check over her appearance before she set off back to her tent.

 

            A deep sigh left Regina as she encountered yet another unexpected surprise at her tent upon her return. Thankfully, it was **not** more sea life camping in her tent, but a slightly more cheerful Emma sitting on her sleeping bag…outside. Side stepping the blonde, she peeked into the tent to see her sleeping bag and duffel where she left them and the turtle occupying the space Emma’s things once had. She slid back out to stand next to Emma’s sleeping bag, merely raising her eyebrow in question.

            “He ate some of the seaweed,” Emma began without prompting. “I figured having space to move around would help him heal up quicker.”

            “You are ridiculous,” Regina sighed again. After deep thought and continued study of Emma’s features, she stepped back into the tent without another word. Five minutes later, she stepped back out, the quiet voice in the back of her mind wondering if was actually going to get to stay in the tent for more than five minutes tonight. “Up,” she said to Emma, her face relaying that she was not really asking.

            Emma quirked her head questioningly, amusingly reminding Regina of a puppy learning a new command, but quickly got to her feet and watched as Regina gathered her sleeping bag into her arms and stepped back into their tent. Though she remained unasked, the retrieval of her sleeping bag lead Emma to believe that Regina intended for her to follow. When she walked through the flap, she found Regina kneeling as carefully as her sleepwear allowed, zipping their bags together. While Emma did not hate this idea **in the slightest** , she was genuinely surprised that Regina took this initiative. True, they were friendly, talked a lot…well, **Emma** talked a lot, but Regina had been contributing more and more with each day and was more open at night. Regina knew far more about Emma than most, and Emma felt that she knew quite a bit about the brunette as well. And while it was perfectly simple to share combined sleeping bags in a purely friendly manner, Emma was still fairly shocked that Regina made this decision.

            “Are you going to stand in the doorway all night?” Regina asked, not looking at Emma but somehow feeling her presence.

            “Uhm, no ma’am, nope,” Emma stuttered, awkwardly making her way to their joined sleeping bags, gracelessly flopping down next to Regina, who was now elegantly seated in the middle. “Uh, thanks. I would’ve been okay outside. I’ve slept in worse places,” she chuckled at Regina’s agreeing nod, both remembering Emma’s tales of sleeping in her car, on the subway, on park benches, and once in one of the swan boats in Boston. “But I appreciate it. Really.”

            “It’s no problem,” Regina smiled genuinely happy with the thought that she truly meant it. She never shared a bed with anyone, let alone the more confined sleeping space that they now had. She truly believed that at this point, they were something of friends, but fairly quickly, Regina was beginning to allow herself to toy with the idea of them potentially becoming more. Though for it to progress to that stage, she obviously needed Emma’s input. How to go about obtaining that information was more than Regina could handle at the moment, so she simply settled herself into the larger sleeping bag, resigning to their usual routine, which went about in its normal fashion, just in a much closer proximity than before.

 

 

            The following morning, Regina believed she may have received her answer, or at least a hint, to her silently placed inquiries the night before when she awoke to find Emma completely draped over her. She thought back on their evening conversations of the weeks past, Emma confessing to be a bit of a bed hog which could transition to koala-like snuggling when she was truly comfortable with whoever she was sharing her sleeping space with.

            “No moving, only sleep,” Emma muttered into Regina’s, thankfully mostly covered, chest when the brunette tried to shift. Resigned to her, not so horrible, fate, Regina peered over the shockingly golden blonde curls to see Sheldon going to town on his newly acquired food and moving much easier around their tent.

            “Come on, Emma,” Regina sighed dramatically, pretending her hand had a mind of its own as it gently combed through Emma’s hair. “If you move, I can get us coffee.”

            “No coffee, only sleep,” Emma reiterated in a barely intelligible mumble.

            “Alright, Zuul, up and at ‘em” Regina announced with finality, regrettably pulling the blonde’s arm from her waist while trying to wiggle from under her. Emma was proving to be the opposite of help as she sluggishly attempted to keep her body in place, somehow putting up a fight without opening her eyes. Regina was about to give up when she looked over the blonde mane, and found Sheldon behaving even livelier than when she woke up. She looked down at the woman who seemed to be back in a deep sleep, then back at the turtle who was seemingly doing laps in their tent. “Looks like Sheldon is feeling better…”

            Regina knew victory was her’s when a single green eye finally cracked open, despite leagues of stubbornness pouring from them. Fully aware that Regina was using the turtle as an excuse to get Emma moving, the blonde couldn’t chance that Regina was just screwing with her. With a quite possibly overly exaggerated groan, Emma dramatically threw herself off of Regina and over to her other side; though excitedly sitting up when she saw Sheldon shuffling across the tent floor with a bit of seaweed hanging from his mouth. Regina chuckled quietly when Emma scrambled out from under the sleeping bag and crawled over to the turtle; white tank top askew, bits of hair sticking up, though her boy shorts…fortunately…in place.

            Staying true to her word, Regina carefully pulled on some leggings and a jacket and headed out to acquire the coffee flavored water provided by the volunteer organization. Walking tall with confidence as she carried two paper cups filled nearly to the brim with coffee and a plate of mixed fruits and surprise pastries; she had been sure to sneak an extra bear claw for Emma, unable to forget her fifteen-minute rant about how they’re the perfect breakfast. Last she checked, Sheldon had managed to eat every bit of food she scrounged for him last night and while she loved…spending time…with Emma…she certainly did not have the energy for a repeat performance.

            The sea gods seemed to be smiling upon her when she approached the tent and found Emma pulling on a pair of swim trunks and clad in a bikini top. The blonde peeked over her shoulder with a smile which widened when she saw the sweet offerings in Regina’s hands.

            “You’re an angel,” Emma gushed when Regina handed over the baked goods and caffeinated goodness, forcing a girlish giggle out of the brunette before she could stop it.

            “Well, someone has to keep you fed,” Regina smirked, daintily sipping her coffee and nibbling on fruit; praying for a quick recovery and for her blush to subside.

            “Speaking of feeding,” Emma declared awkwardly around the bear claw she had just shoved into her mouth, though having the agency to chew and swallow before continuing. “Imma go catch this fella some grub.”

            “Are you sure?” Regina obligatorily inquired, though admittedly halfheartedly.

            “No, no, no,” Emma insisted, downing the rest of her coffee while slipping into a pair of flip-flops. “You went last night, it’s my turn.”

            “Only if you’re positive. I don’t mind,” Regina replied with an amount of honesty that surprised even her.

            “I don’t mind at all. I mean, that’s what co-parenting is all about,” the blonde countered in unbridled flirtation, leveling Regina with a signature Emma Swan wink before heading out to the shore.

 

 

            From that moment on, a sense of freedom fell over Regina. Though she still experienced the usual irritation with the slightly obnoxious oily turtle handlers and the occasional group of girls that seemed to take delight in congregating right outside of the bathroom, it disappeared when she was with Emma. While a big part of her felt a deep anxiety at what that meant for her and her future; she was set to leave in just over a week, the majority of her couldn’t be bothered the care. She enjoying the lightness she felt when Emma walked into their tent, the fluttering in her stomach whenever she laughed. She relished in the feeling of not having to put on any kind of act and simply be Regina. Emma never expected anything from her, save for open honesty. Regina could hear the faint chiding of her mother, preaching foolishness at this girlish sense of flourishing affection and its notable hastiness, but every moment spent with Emma quieted the nagging voice. Her smiles came easier and her stories quicker. Despite Sheldon’s continued recovery, they hadn’t bothered separating their sleeping bags, nor did they ever discuss their reasoning for keeping them together. Each night they stayed up sharing stories; Emma about her temp job which landed her in the oddest of jobs, Regina about her childhood adventures in horseback riding. Each night they stayed up talking until one of them started to drift off and the other would soon follow. Regina delighted in teasing Emma by calling her Koala Swan whenever she woke up with the blonde clinging to her body, but her entire face turned red and hot the third day she woke up, curled around Emma and the blonde took to calling her Regina “Big Spoon” Mills.

 

            In what seemed like the blink of an eye, a week had passed, Regina was due to leave in two days and the two planned on releasing Sheldon the next morning. The brunette watched with a sad, but wistful smile as Emma paced the tent, nervously wringing her hands.

            “Are you **sure** he’s ready?” she asked for the fifth time. “We could keep him here for just a couple more days? Just to be sure?”

            “He’s ready, Emma,” Regina crossed the space and pulled Emma into a gentle hug, something which had come naturally to them and became a frequent occurrence. “He’ll probably make a break for it soon if we don’t,” the blonde chuckled lightly, nodding her agreement, but still hugging Regina harder, hoping to hide her slight embarrassment at the sadness that gripped her chest. “He’s going to be just fine, Koala,” this got Regina a throaty laugh from Emma, along with a light smack on her arm.

            “I know, I know,” Emma sighed, pulling away from Regina. “I guess I just got attached.”

            “I am starting to see that that is in your nature,” Regina commented timidly and, heart pounding in her chest, slipped her hand into Emma’s; lightly biting her lip to keep the beaming smile off her face when the blonde tightened the hold on her hand.

            “Let’s get ready for bed,” Emma sighed again, staring sadly down at the turtle contentedly wandering the tent floor, but never releasing Regina’s hand.

 

 

            The next morning came quicker than either woman wanted. For the first time in…forever, Emma was the first to wake. Keeping true to her newly appointed nickname, she woke up wrapped around Regina, though on the opposite side than she usually did, having wanted to keep her eyes on Sheldon until she fell asleep. This morning, he seemed to be spritely, chowing down on the mountain of seaweed and algae covered rocks she and Regina spent the better part of an hour gathering, wanting to make sure he had sufficient energy for his release after being cooped up in the tent. She didn’t bother moving, perfectly content to bask in the warmth Regina was giving off and in no hurry to leave it. This morning, they would be releasing Sheldon back to his bale, hoping that he would be able to reacclimatize quickly without disturbing any possible nesting. Tomorrow, Regina would be heading back to Maine, herself to Boston. She didn’t know what would happen with whatever had developed between them. They never spoke about it, they just let it happen.

            “Those are gale force winds you’re sighing down there, Koala,” Regina’s hoarse voice startled Emma out of her dismal reverie and allowed a laugh to break through. Her body relaxed once again when the brunette kept her arms around Emma’s waist, both seemingly trying to put their morning task off. “We’ve got to get up,” she spoke dejectedly after several additional moments of silence. “I can already hear them breaking down and we need to get him going before they get to us.”

            “Yeah,” Emma mumbled, taking a deep breath and squeezing the body beneath her before getting to her feet, then turning to help Regina to hers.

            After five minutes of quick dressing and checking for witnesses, Regina and Emma were carefully walking Sheldon down to a bit of beach that was hidden from the rest of the camp. When they reached the gentle sweeping waves, they gently lowered him to the ground, Emma kneeling next to him and Regina standing just behind her.

            Though she couldn’t hear her exact words, Regina could see Emma speaking softly to Sheldon, a few scattered tears slipping down her cheeks. Her heart warmed at the unending caring that flowed from the blonde in front of her. She came into this endeavor with intense irritation; at Sydney for suggesting it, at her constituents for voting her into office and then doubting her every move, but she was leaving with nothing but joy. She couldn’t be sure what would happen with Emma, but she knew she would ensure that **something** happened.

            The faraway sound of Emma calling her name snapped her from her thoughts and brought her attention to the blonde trying to get her attention. “Yes, dear?”

            “You need to say bye to Sheldon,” while Emma’s voice was serious, it still carrying the carefreeness of a child’s.

            Unable to stop herself, she hitched up her pants and kneeled on Sheldon’s side opposite Emma, lightly placing a hand on his shell. “Sheldon, you’ve been a good turtle. Good luck in all your nesting endeavors.”

            “That’s it?” Emma asked, slightly scandalized at Regina’s formality.

            “What do you expect? For me to kiss him goodbye?” Regina immediately balked at the look in Emma’s eye, clearly expressing that the blonde expected precisely that. “Emma Jean Swan, I am not kissing this turtle goodbye.”

            “Regina Victoria Mills. You are absolutely kissing this turtle goodbye,” Emma shot back with the same determination.

            “What if,” Regina started, but paused when her pounding heart decided to take up residence in her throat, blocking all speech. Momentarily closing her eyes and taking a quick, deep breath, Regina opened her eyes and met Emma’s. “What if…I give you a kiss…and you can pass it on to Sheldon?” Regina Mills had given more speeches in her life than she could count and not once had she felt as nervous as she did now.

            “Yeah, okay, sounds like a plan,” Emma desperately hoped that her voice did not sound as breathless as she thought it did. As Regina shifted her body over Sheldon and toward Emma, the blonde’s body went completely numb, save for the immense hammering of her heart in her chest. Her heart seemed to supernova in her chest and every nerve ending seemed to explode the moment Regina’s lips touched hers. She mentally thanked every God she could think of that her brain managed to function without her own personal input and responded enthusiastically. Her body and mind finally came to life when Regina pressed against her as much as the turtle between them would allow. Emma audibly groaned as Regina flicked her tongue against the blonde’s lips and pulled away. “I cannot kiss our son like that,” Emma whispered with her eyes still tightly shut, but smiling brightly when Regina’s raspy laugh filled her ears. When she was sure she could move, Emma slowly leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss on his head. “Goodbye, Sheldon. Your mommies love you and will miss you. Go get you some. Make me proud, son.”

            Regina laughed heartily and watched Emma edge Sheldon toward the water and taking her hand when the blonde stepped back and watched as the turtle eagerly made his way into the ocean; both women allowing the few stray tears slip down their cheeks.


	4. You're an Idiot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While on vacation, Regina and Emma get a blast from the past.

“For the last time, Regina, I am **not** going to play ‘Swan Lake’,” Emma grumbled, sliding her sunglasses on and shutting her eyes, hoping that would shut down the conversation. One they had been having ever since Emma let it slip that she knew how to play the violin.

            “Your name is Emma **Swan** ,” Regina urged, blatantly ignoring the blonde’s attempts at deflection. “You basically **have** to.”

            “I don’t **have** to do shit, babe,” she shot back, lifting her sunglasses so she could look into Regina’s eyes. “And in just three short months, I will be Emma Swan- **Mills** , making that entirely false obligation null and void.”      

            “All that means is that you have three months to give me what I want,” Regina allowed her voice to slip into the low timbre she knew drove Emma crazy. And she was sure it would have this time, if the blonde had actually been paying attention to her and not staring intently at the shore line. “Emma, while we are obviously being facetious with each other, it is unbecoming to ignore me completely.”

            “I’m not ignoring you,” Emma mumbled, continuing to stare at the water for a moment longer before quickly scrambling to her feet. “Holy shit, it can’t be,” she muttered quickly before taking off toward the ocean, leaving Regina sitting on their towel completely dumbfounded. She stared at her sprinting fiancé, totally lost as to why she had just taken off like a shot. Emma crouched out of sight, long enough that Regina was just about to turn back to her book until she heard a faint, but shouted “Regina, get down here! Now!”

            Regina affectionately rolled her eyes, wondering what in the hell Emma managed to find this time. Every time they went on vacation, Emma managed to find something ridiculous and obscure, though she didn’t think anything could top the actual message in a bottle the blonde found in Hawai’i.

            When she finally made it town to the beach, having taken her time, she saw Emma, on her belly, face to face with a turtle. Of course. That woman was an animal magnet. As if she felt Regina’s presence, Emma looked up and excitedly waved her over, a huge grin on her face. Curiosity at Emma’s exceeding excitement and Regina quicken her pace to see what was so exciting about this turtle; their vacation was ending in two days and they did not have the time to nurse another one back to health.

            Apparently, Regina was not going quick enough because Emma jumped to her feet, ran over to the brunette, grabbed her hand and hauled her over to the wayward turtle.

            “Regina! Look!” the blonde bounced on the balls of her feet, looking between Regina and the turtle.

            “Emma, darling, it may have been two years, but I’m not a complete idiot,” Regina sighed, only slightly annoyed. “I know it’s turtle.”

            “ ** _Obviously_** ,” Emma’s eyes rolled so hard, any teenager within a five-foot radius was surely jealous. “But **look**. **Really** look.”

            With a resigning sigh, Regina focused all attention on the turtle, scanning it for clues that would leave to Emma’s immense excitement. It was clearly a green sea turtle, tail length would suggest male, then something caught Regina’s eye. She learned from Emma that cracked shells heal, but scar. Looking at this turtle’s shell, at the very top, she saw the faint outline of what appeared to be a lightning bolt.

            “Is this?” Regina stuttered disbelievingly. “It can’t be – “

            “It’s **Sheldon**!” Emma squealed jumping up and down. She paused and glanced over at Regina before running back to their stuff. At this point in their relationship, Regina had gotten used to Emma bolting off without a word, sure that she would return fairly quickly with an explanation. Said explanation came in the form of Emma waving her phone enthusiastically and then pulling Regina down into the sand. Emma managed to take an immense amount selfies of the three of them before something in the last one caught her attention. Her brow furrowed as she zoomed in on some dark colored spots, scowling when she couldn’t decipher what they were. Another minute of studying the photos and coming up blank, Emma quickly sat and looked behind them, almost immediately letting out an ear splitting shriek that startled both Regina and Sheldon. Regina looked behind her trying to locate what had caused her fiancé to suddenly morph into a banshee and chuckling when she saw the tiny scuttling forms of what could only be tiny turtles. “They’re his babies!!” while Emma’s tone could still be labeled as squealing, she managed to bring it down a few decibels.

            “Emma, love,” Regina spoke softly, loving the joy in Emma’s face but not wanting her to be disappointed. “Hundreds of turtles nest here. We can’t possibly know – “

            “No, I do know!” Emma smiled eagerly, standing again but slowly making her way to the tiny hatchlings. She looked over her shoulder expectedly and beaming when Regina lovingly shook her head, then got to her feet and made her way to Emma’s side. “They are absolutely his babies.”

            Regina’s heart warmed, as it always did when Emma’s voice took on the soft affection it held when viewing something she held dear. However, she couldn’t hold back the light chuckle when she glanced over and saw a few stray tears sliding down Emma’s cheeks.

            “Are you crying, dear?” She inquired softly, filled with a mixture of adoration and amusement.

            “Shut up,” Emma huffed, nudging Regina’s shoulder with her own and getting back down to her belly, lying next to a small cluster of tiny turtles. “Get that beautiful butt down here and come take a selfie with our grandbabies.”

            Never in all of her ears did Regina think she could lovingly roll her eyes, but with Emma Swan, it happened on a regular basis. She allowed the blonde to grip and tickle her ankle until she dramatically exhaled a deep groan and carefully sat next to Emma, who was now sitting up and had scooped up a couple of the babies, silently hinting Regina to pull her phone from the pocket in her board shorts. After freeing the lifeproof case covered phone from a slightly damp pocket, Regina opened Emma’s camera app, she snuggled into Emma’s side and dropping her head on Emma’s shoulder, letting the infinite love she felt in her heart show through her smile as Emma proudly held up their reptilian grandbabies for the camera.

Emma turned her head slightly and was rewarded with a full view of Regina's open and serene expression. The deep love that filled her in that moment caused her heart to ache and a content sigh to escape her lips. This soft exhalation caused Regina to glance up, a gentle smile lifting her lips when her eyes met Emma's, widening when the blonde leaned forward and softly pressed their lips together. In this moment, Regina couldn't resist capturing the overly clichéd but entirely too opportunistic couple kissing photo. She had to suppress the urge to pull Emma fully against her, slightly due to the tiny turtles the blonde was still holding and largely due to the growing audience of beach goers setting up their camps. She wasn't really ready to give them a show, finding that she found Emma more and more difficult resist the closer they got to their wedding. She was still having trouble grasping the concept that Emma was really hers and would be, hopefully, for the rest of their lives. She settled for one more kiss before pulling back and resting her head back on Emma's shoulder.

 

 "Think we could just carry these little guys straight to the shore?" Emma asked hopefully. She turned her gaze back to Regina and was simply met with a quicked eyebrow in response. "I know, I know. Biological imperative and all that. I just want them to have their best shot. Even if it's cheating," she carefully lifted the babies and placed light kisses on their respective shells before placing them back on the sand, happy to at least give them a good two feet head start. "Bye babies, Grammy loves you."

 

"You're an idiot," Regina said with an unlimited amount of affection.

 

"I love you, too," Emma grinned, taking Regina's hand, helping her up and walking her back to their towel

 

            Ten years, two kids and one house later, Emma Swan-Mills still makes sure that their pictures with Sheldon and his babies were prominently displayed with the rest of their family photos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I genuinely loved writing this. I was eager to write it as quickly as possible, cursing each and every responsibility that kept me from it!
> 
> Dedicated to our favorite turtle loving Swen.


End file.
